


Equilibrium

by Cloudnine101



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Loneliness, Love, M/M, Team Free Will, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:50:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Castiel will wait forever, if he has to - but he won't give up.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equilibrium

It's been in the air for a while now, simply...hanging. It's there while they're hunting - at least, while Dean and Sam are hunting, and Castiel's watching from the sidelines, generally being useless (a baby in a trenchcoat, just another guy, just another angel). He sees the light gleam on Dean's blade - feels his heart catch, as it's driven into a demon's chest, and black blood blooms around it.

The demon stutters, and staggers, too close to catching Dean with its claws - and the Righteous Man recoils, body arching lithely back, stepping away as the creature falls. Another foes muted - another enemy gone, and then they're back on the road, shooting witty remarks between them. Castiel wasn't needed. He never is, anymore. That doesn't stop him from waiting - because one day, he might just be, and he can't miss it. He can't.

It's there while they're in the Impala - at least, while Dean and Sam are in the Impala, and Castiel's making sure they get home safe. It takes a lot of effort, to track a moving car. Really, they should have protocol for this kind of thing, back in Heaven. However, he's pretty sure that when said protocols were invented, carts weren't even a concept, never mind automated vehicles.

There isn't a rule for what he's doing, anyway. There isn't an instruction, or a guide, or a manual. Castiel's a guardian - a protector - an enforcer of the law, in his own way. The other angels look at him askance; he's getting too close, they whisper. He's spending too much time down there. He's distancing himself from us. And Castiel tries not to - tries to stay away, tries to keep himself to himself - but then he imagines green eyes, and a willing smile, and that's all it takes to bring him right back where he started.

It's there when they're in the bunker, simply lounging, after a night spent destroying the forces of the night. It's just the two of them, now - the two brothers, the Winchester. The Boy King and the Knight of Hell, brought together by the side of good, and by their seething, writhing bonds of blood. That's the way it should be - the Winchesters against the world, their guardian angel by their side. And if they don't need their angel - if his time is up, if his use is over - is it right that he should still need them?

There is Sam, who is loyal and kind and irrevocably twisted; who only wants what is the best for the world, and yet cannot help, because of what has been done to him. There is the turning of pages and the ticking of the clock; there is the scent of musk and must, and a soft smile, and the clicking of keys. There is Sam - everything that makes him, that binds him, all that life that was breathed into him. There is his darkness.

The darkness - the shadow that boils in his chest, when his brother cannot see (which his brother cannot stop) - and Castiel sees, and cannot ease the burden. He is responsible, after all. He will always be responsible, no matter how much he aches (or wishes). The angel Castiel left Sam Winchester's soul in Hell - and this is his penance, his comeuppance; a twisted boy without a heart, whose fangs curl upwards at the sight of red, and whose laugh is hollow - and a man who will not pray to him, will never pray to him again.

There is Sam, and his darkness - and there is Dean. Dean. _Dean_. Throughout it all, there is always Dean, and always has been Dean, and always will be Dean. He is Castiel's creation; and his name has been whispered so softly, in the depths of the night and in the glow of the sun, that it has lost all meaning - repeated over and over again, by an angel who has brought death and destruction, and would do it all again to keep him safe.

Those eyes - burning into him, looking through him; a back, turned away, turning away, locked in his mind, through a dancing ring of flame. Dean, Dean, _Dean_ \- it doesn't seem enough for him, somehow. It doesn't seem enough for his smile, and his laugh, and his bitterness, and his loathing - loathing sent towards himself, and the demons, and now - now, that it is all over - Castiel.

Angels aren't supposed to feel. They aren't supposed to hurt, or cry out, or miss someone. They aren't supposed to form attachments. They aren't supposed to long for slight touches, or half-grins, or the tang of copper and iron and fire. Angels aren't supposed to feel - and yet, this feeling, it exists within him. Castiel can't burn it, or scourge it out, or cleanse himself - because he's tried. He's tried so many times. He's stepped away, and it always returns, brighter than ever before.

Companionship. Camaraderie. Friendship. It means more to him that anything; even Heaven, even Hell, even himself. And if Castiel could make a choice - a choice between living and dying, between the Apocalypse and salvation, between the end and a new beginning - he would always choose Dean, because, for him, there is no alternative. Dean Winchester is his weakness; the chink in his carefully constructed armour, the grains of sand leaking in, reducing him to rubble.

And even if Dean is darkness, and Castiel is the light; and even if Dean is human, and Castiel is an angel; and even if Dean is pure (the purest soul he's ever encountered, ever will encounter, hand-crafted), and Castiel is sullied, Castiel will always choose _him_. Always. It's been there for a long time, this feeling - the stirring in Castiel's chest, the ever-present...something. Something. Something he can't hope to understand.

He can't sate it; can't quench his hunger, can't satisfy his thirst. Companionship. Camaraderie. Friendship. The words whirl in his mind, like paper butterflies - but what do they mean, really? Being left on the side of a road - waiting, and waiting, beneath the glow of the fake lights, in a world that his changed too much for him to follow. The Winchesters - his friends - were the exceptions...are the exceptions. But how can he know that?

They've fought together; lost together; laughed together, hanging onto one another, offering support and kindness and courage - and that's all they can do, in the end. That's what friendship amounts to: believing in someone, when they can't. They've battled demons, and lounged on cold ground, and stood beneath the stars, side by side, simply being. Don't ever change, Dean said, once. Castiel doesn't plan on it.

But that was before everything; before Crowley interceded, with an offer Castiel simply couldn't afford to refuse. And even then, Castiel had protected them - protected them, because that was what he did. It's what he does - who he is - what he stands for. It's all he can do; and when he doubts - when the flames in his heart flicker higher, longing to burst from their captivity, to fly, to soar - he returns, and stares into green, green eyes, and suddenly, there is nothing else.

It's been in the air for a while now, simply...hanging - and the worst part is, there's nothing Castiel can do to change it. It's a part of him, just as much as Jimmy Novak's silent heart, and the stolen Grace that brands him. It's a part of him - and he can't remove it, can't cut it out, slice it out, tuck or store it away. Castiel can't smother it, because it's who he is. It's all he is. And even if he could - even though he knows he should - he wouldn't ever change. He won't ever change. He _won't_. Free will is his - and he'll stand for it.

Castiel will wait forever, if he has to - but he won't give up.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, this ship is killing me. Reviews ease the pain.


End file.
